Convince Them Otherwise
by Vruity
Summary: New foster home, new chances. A fresh start with the Washingtons, and a very problematic crush on a new best friend. LAMS, mostly fluff.
1. Chapter 1

_(A/N) I don't own any of these characters, nor do I make any profit of this fic._

 _Before._

Alexander Hamilton sighed as he looked up from his test to shoot a glance at the clock.

10:31.

In 19 minutes, he would be done for the day and had to go home. He hated this, the days that school would end early and he had to go home to the foster family that had taken him in. Most students lived for days like these, but Alex didn't. Another look at the clock.

10:32.

He looked back at the paper and edited the last question, before flipping the paper around to check all his answers for the third time. And after that, he checked them for the fourth time. This test would make up 10 percent of the final grade, so he couldn't screw it up. Of course he had done all of the reading weeks before the rest even started worrying about the test, and in class he was one of the few who always raised their hands to give the teacher the answer. Hell, Alex even corrected the teachers in some classes, but still. There's no way one could be too sure.

Alex shot one final look at the clock hanging on the wall when he heard the bell ring. He got his backpack and walked out of the classroom.

After that, things happened so fast it felt like a blur.

The last thing that Alex could tell the social worker was him stepping inside of the house and seeing his foster father, George King, beat the shit out of one of his foster sisters, Beth. He remembered he had stepped in to help her, but after that, his memory wasn't there. Beth had been able to tell the workers that King beat Alex until he wasn't moving anymore, and then walked away. She had called 911 and after that, Alex remembered waking up in a white room. He had heard a nurse whisper things to him, trying to get him to regain consciousness.

Around five minutes after he had opened his eyes, he felt alert enough to sit upright and started talking about all the things George King had done to him and his foster siblings, beating them whenever they didn't immediately do the thing he asked for. Sometimes he even did it when they did do it, but he decided it wasn't good enough. Or the times he had drank too much and outed his anger to the children in the house. The more he talked about the abusive behavior of his former foster father, the more he noticed the social workers exchanging nervous glances, and he saw the doctors worry.

He talked and he talked and he talked until everyone who mattered had heard his story, and after that, he started writing in a notebook that had laid next to his bed with a tiny pencil. He wanted to take his mind of of things, didn't want to think about the Kings anymore. God, he didn't want to think at all anymore. He just wanted to lose himself in a story where everything would be alright. Because of the lack of books in his room, Alex just created a story for himself. He wrote about his mother, and created another life for her. A happy life, with peace and no illnesses and no hurricanes. He didn't stop until midnight. Until his room was too dark, and his eyes were too heavy to continue. Alexander felt himself falling asleep, and his last thoughts were him wondering who his new foster parents could be, hoping that they wouldn't suck as bad as King.

 _Now._

"You shouldn't be nervous about the Washingtons being willing to take you in, young man. The trouble and chaos many would think you have caused are something that would scare most people off, but I know George and Martha would never back off from a challenge." The social worker who had picked him up from the airport, a pretty woman with long, dark hair and red lips smiled at him. "You mustn't worry, though. I know it wasn't your fault the Kings were abusive, and you are in no way to blame, but still. It's hard to explain." Alex just smiled at her. Of course nobody would want to take him in. He was an abomination. He only caused trouble, everywhere he went. He shook his head. No. He wasn't to blame, the pretty woman -Martha...? Maria? Maria.- had said so herself. He must have looked worried because he felt Maria putting her hand on his knee. "Like I said," She smiled "don't worry."

He really didn't want to worry anymore.

When the car arrived at a big mansion about three hours later it was already dark and Alex was sure that the lady behind the wheel had made a mistake. It wasn't possible for his new parents to live here. This house was way too big for a foster family. But when he looked sideways at Maria, she was just smiling at him and encouraged him to get out of the car.  
"Come on, Alexander, let's go outside. I'm sure George wants to meet you." Alex sighed and opened the door of the car, and almost slipped as soon as he set one foot outside of the car. He looked down in wonder. There was layer of ice on the driveway, which he hadn't expected. It was that moment he realized how cold he was. He searched for Maria, who was getting his bag (He only had taken his books and one pair of jeans with him) out of the car. "Why is it so cold here?" Maria looked up at him. "Because it's winter, sweetie. Surely you know how cold it can get around here?" Alex was confused. Of course he knew the cold. When the hurricane hit, he was constantly soaked to the bone, and almost never warm. But... "It never freezes where I come from. And in California, when I lived with King, it was always warm, if not hot." Maria chuckled and handed him his bag. "Well, you should get used to it. I'm from Florida so I know the feeling, and let me tell you, it hardly ever gets warm around here."

Behind him, Alex heard a door open and in the corner from his eye he could see a golden hue come from the house. "Alexander? Come in! It's way too cold for you to be outside without a jacket." Alex saw a woman with brown hair stand in the open door. He looked up at the sky to search for the brightest star in the sky - "If you can find the brightest star in the night sky, and follow that, you will always be able to come home." His mother smiled at him in their cramped little apartment on the island. - but he couldn't see the stars because of the clouds. He sighed and carried his bag to the front door.

The woman looked nice enough, and Alex almost didn't know what he was nervous about anymore. Because they always seem nice at first, a little voice in the back of his head told him. George King didn't look like he would harm Alex in the beginning, but the tables turned not much after. But the woman smiled and Alex's worries seemed to melt away.  
"Hello dear, I'm Martha Washington, and you'll be living with us from now on. Come in, George and our other son Gilbert are already sitting at the table." She grinned playfully at him. "We should hurry up, if you still want to eat, at least. Once George and Gilbert start eating, there's no stopping them." Alex smiled uncomfortably, and glanced at Maria, who was making a small hand gesture to indicate Alex hurrying up to join the family. 'Good luck!' she mouthed before turning around and starting the car. Alex watched the car pull out of the driveway and listened to the fading sound of the wheels driving away from the house. He turned on his heels and walked into the house where a wave of warmth immediately hit him, like he stepped into a warm bath.

He followed Martha into the living room, and heard a voice screaming with a thick french accent. "Who is the best? C'est moi!" Martha shook her head and he curiously followed her into the dining room.

A young boy with a fluffy ponytail was standing on his chair with his left hand on his heart and the other in the air, and on another chair at the table, a tall dark man was shaking with laughter. Martha paused her walk for a second, and then continued to walk toward the man in the chair. She whispered something in his ear, and the man looked over at Alex. A smile spread across his face. The boy with the ponytail climbed down from his chair and stuck his hand out to Alex.  
"Bonsoir, mon ami! I'm Gilbert du Mortier Marquis de Lafayette -"Just call him Lafayette or Gilbert" said Martha - and I'm very happy to meet you. We have awaited your arrival, but now you are finally here." Alex looked at his hand and carefully shook it, only to have Lafayette shake it energetically, making his arm hurt a little, the bruises on his ribs starting to ache. Alex bit his lip and tried to ignore it.

The other man in the room walked toward the pair, and even though Alex stuck out his hand, he didn't shake it. Instead, he put a hand on Alex's shoulder and crouched a little, so he could look Alex in the eye. "And I'm George Washington, just George for you, son." Alex felt the urge to correct the man, he wasn't anyone's son anymore, but resisted and just nodded. George looked him in the eye for another moment and then stood up and pulled up a chair for Alex to sit on. "Do you want to eat with us, or do you want to go up and see your room first?" Alex was ready to decline the offer of dinner and go to his new room to write, when his stomach rumbled loudly. Upon hearing this, George chuckled and Alex sat down at the dinner table. The food on the table looked and smelled delicious, and he felt his mouth water at the sight. "Here, you have to taste my mother's green beans. Je sais, it sounds weird, but have a few, they're good." Lafayette handed him a bowl with green beans and Alex put a few on his plate before handing the bowl back to Lafayette, who already had a big pile of them on his.

The Washingtons soon started chatting with each other, Lafayette doing most of the talking. "Mais non, listen to me, he is not, how do you say, OBSESSED with the turtles, it's just that he has, like, twelve of them." He stuffed his mouth with a big spoon of mashed potatoes. "But like I've argued before, someone's sanity isn't directly linked to the amount of turtles someone has. Mais il les adore trop!" Even though Alex understood the little French Lafayette was speaking, it was one of his first languages after all, he didn't know who he was talking about. He wanted to ask, but the conversation had already landed on another subject, and Alex didn't really feel like interrupting the rapidly speaking boy. About ten minutes later, everyone was finished with eating and Martha took his plate and walked to, what he guessed was the kitchen. "Can I help?" He asked nervously, not sure if he was supposed to do anything, and really just wanting to leave. Martha looked at him in a way he couldn't quite place. "No honey, you don't have to. Just go rest, you're probably very tired. Gilbert will show you your room." With a smile she disappeared into the other room, leaving Alex with George and Lafayette. George sighed. "Well, I'm going to my office. I've got quite a bit of work that I have to finish. Gilbert, I assume you know where Alex will be going to stay?" When Lafayette nodded, George seemed satisfied with the answer. "I'll see you both tomorrow then." He turned to Alex. "If there's anything you want, or if there's anything you need, feel free to ask me or Martha. We want you to be comfortable. I have to work tomorrow, but Martha will take you shopping for some new clothes. Okay?" Alex nodded. George nodded shortly, and walked to his office.

"I'm so going shopping with you tomorrow." "Huh?" Lafayette looked very serious as he repeated his earlier statement. "I'm joining your little shopping trip. I'm actually surprised Martha didn't invite me in the first place." When they reached the top of the stairs, they turned left into a long hallway. Lafayette stopped at the second door on the left. "Voila. Ta propre chambre." He opened the door and revealed a spacious room with a big window. Alex was perplexed. It wasn't like he hadn't expected a room of his own in a house this big, but he hadn't dare to dream of a room this big. There were at least three bookshelves filled with books and a king sized bed with blue sheets in the right corner. A dark wooden desk stood across the bed and had a laptop on it. Lafayette dropped his bag on the desk and pointed to a door. "There's your wardrobe. Don't worry, we'll get to filling that tomorrow. The bathroom is down the hallway to you left, but you'll have to share that with me." Alex was still standing in the doorway, lost for words. When he felt like could finally say something, he pointed at the laptop. "Whose is that?" Lafayette turned around to look at what Alex was pointing at and said. "Oh, that. That's yours."

"Sorry?"

Lafayette looked at Alex and shrugged. "It was once George's laptop, but he has a newer one. So you can have it." He mistook Alex's look of disbelieve for dissatisfaction, and quickly added. "Of course, if you want a newer one as well, we can make that happen." Alex shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. I just can't believe I have a room of my own, and you gave me a laptop. It's..." Well, what was it? It wasn't like Alex wasn't happy. "It's a little much... But it's great."  
Lafayette smiled. "I'll leave you to it, then. Get some rest now. Tomorrow will be an exciting day." After saying that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Alex looked around for one last time before stripping down to his underwear and laying down on the (way too big) bed. Before he closed his eyes he prayed to his mother, to everything he held holy, that the Washingtons would be different and he finally didn't have to worry anymore.

 _(A/N) Feel free to leave a review!_  
 _Translations of French:_  
 _Bonsoir, mon ami: Good evening, my friend_  
 _Je sais: I know_  
 _Mais il les adore trop: But he loves them too much_  
 _Voila! Ta propre chambre: Here you go! Your own room_


	2. Chapter 2

_(A/N) I don't own any of the characters nor do I make any profit of this fic. This chapter contains some strong language, mentions of child abuse and homophobic slurs._

The next morning, when Alex woke up, the first thing he noticed was the chirping of the birds outside. Somehow, it felt surreal to him, out-of-this-world like. A little too peaceful compared to the situation he was in before coming to the Washingtons. He rolled over to check the small clock on his nightstand. The red numbers shone in his face as if they wanted to remind him of his inability to rest enough, although it wasn't really bad that day. Still, Alex felt a sting of dissatisfaction when the clock told him that it was 6:12 am. Alex rubbed his hands over his face and wondered if it was too early to shower. When his hands hit his hair, Alex couldn't suppress a groan. His hair had the tendency to turn into a bird's nest every morning, unless he slept with a braid in.

He hadn't a problem with braiding his hair before living with the Kings. On the last day of the second week, the first comment about his hair had come from George King. Alex had always preferred longer hair over the short hairdo that was normal for boys his age. He wore it in a ponytail or a neat bun most of the time, but sometimes he would braid it to prevent knots in his hair. So that day he had gone downstairs to eat breakfast, hair braided on his back, when King had told him to take the braid out, or else he could fuck off. Alex was shocked to hear him say that, considering the little children in the kitchen, but King didn't seem to care. He had called him a faggot and slapped him in his face in front of the entire table. The bruising on his cheek had shown up soon after, and after that moment he hadn't dared to braid his hair ever again.

But the Washingtons weren't the Kings. And he didn't want to worry anymore.  
Alex decided to take the risk.  
But first he wanted to shower.

After taking a long shower and washing his hair thoroughly - He had borrowed Lafayette's shampoo and hair conditioner - he smelled faintly like lavender and felt better than he had in the morning. He sneaked back to his room to put on the same pair of jeans as yesterday, and looked in the closet for a shirt. He opened the door and was surprised at the sight of the almost completely empty space. It was huge! And Lafayette had told him they were going to fill it? He didn't need so many clothes. He was happy to find a simple white shirt on one of the shelves and quickly closed the closet. After putting on his clothes the search for his hairbrush began. He found it in one of the drawers of the desk. He didn't struggle much with the knots in his hair because of Lafayette's conditioner, which was a relief. Directly after, he braided his hair.

He looked in the mirror and couldn't decide if he liked what he saw. He was paler than he'd like, but the bruising that had recently colored his neck was fading and the bags underneath his eyes were also not as defined as they had been. He touched the place where his lip had split. It didn't exactly hurt when he touched it, but he could feel the memory of the pain in his subconscious. He ran his hand over his face one last time, looked himself deep in the eyes and went downstairs.

Once downstairs, he heard sounds coming out of the kitchen. Alex decided to follow the sound, only to find Lafayette standing in the kitchen with headphones in, dancing to what seemed like a country-type song. He was dressed in a pink shirt and dark jeans, and his hair wasn't tamed into a fluffy ponytail this time. He was balancing carton of eggs and a plate full of raw bacon in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in the other. Alex just looked at the scene in front of him, speechless. Lafayette put the eggs and the orange juice on the counter top, but when he turned he shrieked and dropped the plate of bacon. The plate broke neatly in three pieces, and the was bacon al over the floor. Alex felt himself get pale and started stuttering. "Oh god, Lafayette, I'm so sorry. Here, I'll clean it up. It's all my fault. Please don't tell George and Martha." He hurried to kneel down and clean up the mess, but Lafayette just looked at him weirdly. "Est-ce que tu as fait avec tes cheveux?" Alex looked up at Lafayette, afraid for an insult, already regretting his decision to braid it that morning. But Lafayette smiled at him. "Er, je les ai natté." Lafayette stroked his hair and said. "Je l'aime." Alex smiled shyly at him. He was relieved, but also felt like he should have known that Lafayette wouldn't judge him.

Neither of the boys had noticed George standing next to them. "What can't you tell me, Gilbert?" Lafayette casually said that he had dropped a plate of bacon and winked at Alex before throwing away the shards of the broken plate. Alex picked up the raw strips of bacon from the floor.

"How would you like your eggs?" Alex looked up from the bacon to see George cracking a few eggs into a pan on the stove for Lafayette's breakfast. "Scrambled eggs are okay, thank you." George smiled at him. "Okay, no problem. One portion of eggs coming up. Martha will be down soon, and after breakfast she'll take you shopping." Alex nodded and sat down at the table. Lafayette sat down next to him and started devouring his eggs. It made Alex want to chuckle, but it also made him a little nauseous, although the French boy seemed to enjoy himself. George put down Alex's plate in front of him and started on his own eggs.

Martha had joined five minutes and another big plate of eggs for Lafayette later, and she didn't seem as happy before her first coffee - "Don't ever get her order wrong at the coffee store." Lafayette had warned Alex after Martha had shot George an angry look because he had put a little too much sugar into the drink. - and even after her first cup, she turned to George and started muttering some things to him, but even though she sounded very disgruntled, Alex still noticed the love behind her words. After she finished her second cup, she gathered her things and gestured for the boys to follow her.  
"Okay, let's go then. Gilbert, have you got your coat from last year? Alex only has a thin one, and he'll freeze if he goes out in that." Lafayette nodded solemnly and ran upstairs to fetch his coat, while Alex was putting on his shoes. About half a minute later he heard stumbling from the stairs and the boy appeared with a big grey coat in his hands. "There you go. You've got everything?" Alex nodded. "Let's go then."

The closer they got to the mall, the more enthusiastic Lafayette got. When they arrived at the parking lot, he was basically a young dog, and ready to jump around, dragging Alex along with him. They went into every clothing store Lafayette deemed worthy, and when they were finished with most of the stores, Alex's arms ached because of all the bags, and he wasn't even carrying them all. When they entered another store, the last one if Alex could decide, he put the bags down and followed his new brother to a rack of shirts. Lafayette pushed a brown sweatshirt in his arms and ordered him to go try it on. Alex sighed and made his way to the fitting rooms.

Alex wasn't really paying attention when he shoved open the curtain of the room, but then a voice interrupted his train of thoughts. "Hey, man, occupado..." "Oh my god, I'm sorry, I..." He looked up into soft brown eyes and felt his stomach drop. A boy with more freckles than there were stars in the sky stood shirtless in the small space, arms crossed before his chest. He had curly brown hair and lips that just begged to be kissed. Alex blinked and realized he had been staring at the face of the boy, when he heard Lafayette walking toward him.

"Alex, try this one, too, I think it'll match your eyes even better than... LAURENS, mon ami, what are you doing here?" Alex looked from the boy to Lafayette, and the boy, Laurens, grinned widely at him. Jesus, that smile made hundreds of butterflies flutter in his stomach, and it wasn't even directed at Alex. It made him feel like he was floati- what was wrong with him? He didn't even know the first name of this boy, and he was already starting to like him. Lafayette did seem to know him, though, and he pulled him into a tight hug. "I thought you were in Virginia with your dad?" Laurens chuckled, and Alex loved the sound. "I left. Couldn't stand to stay one more second around him. I couldn't leave on my own, of course, so the compromise is for me to move here, but with my dad and siblings." Lafayette nodded knowingly before introducing Alex to Laurens. "Alex, this is one of my best friends, John Laurens. John?" John offered Alex his hand and Alex gladly took it. And to his dismay, he started rambling. "Hello, I'm Alexander Hamilton, well actually just Alex, don't call me Alexander. I'm sorry for walking in on you earlier, I'm not a perv, I swear." He firmly shut his mouth and could actually hit himself in the face for babbling like that. John didn't even know him, but he probably thought he was weird already. He almost didn't dare look back at John, even though he started to introduce himself. "Well, hello Alexander Hamilton, actually just Alex. Nice to meet you. I'm John Laurens."

At that exact moment, Alex noticed that John still didn't wear a shirt, and he could barely resist the urge to look at his bare chest. "John, mon ami, you are not wearing a shirt." Lafayette told him with a wink. John looked down at his torso in confusion and his face flushed red in embarrassment. It made his freckles stand out even more, and Alex loved it. Call him a perv of whatever, but he didn't want John to put on a shirt just yet. Not until he could have a good look at his chest. When John was no longer looking at Alex, but muttering a defense to Lafayette, Alex saw his chance and looked.

Damn. John Laurens' torso was lean and muscled, but not in a bodybuilder sort of way. He looked like someone who ran regularly, and treated his body well. He could see the faintest definition of a six pack, and because of the washed out, grey jeans riding low on his hips, and he could see the defined V of his bones peek over the waistband of his underwear. Alex wanted to sigh at the view of the miles of tan skin, and the freckles that came all the way down over his chest and his stomach, but then he heard Martha call him and Lafayette. He looked up apologetically and Lafayette sighed. John just nodded and told them: "Wait here for a moment. I'm going to put on this shirt and then I'll join you." "D'accord." Lafayette said, and then left to find Martha and talk to her. A few seconds later, the curtain opened again, and a fully clothed John stood in front of Alex. There was an awkward silence where they just looked at each other, hands fidgeting and desperately trying to come up with something to say, before Alex started rambling.

"So, Lafayette has this friend who is totally obsessed with turtles. Do you know who I'm talking about?" John blushed and grabbed the shirt he had been trying on. "Yeah. That's me, I guess." Oh no. He was so stupid. Why did he have to start about this? He probably thinks Alex thinks he's weird or something. He had to fix this. "Oh really? That's awesome. Turtles are like, totally cool. You know, I've seen a lot of turtles in my life. Seen all sorts of them."

Oh. My. God. Alexander. Could you say anything more stupid than that? Alex despised himself for saying that, but John didn't seem to mind. He actually looked really interested. "Yeah? So, where are you from, then? There aren't exactly many turtles around here." Alex felt blood rise to his cheeks. He didn't really want to tell John about his early life. Scratch that, he really didn't want to. John was still looking at him, waiting for his answer

That's when God sent his personal, curly haired, French angel to rescue Alex from his miserable situation, and drag both him and the freckled beauty to the frozen yogurt store, where Martha was waiting for them. John greeted Martha like he had known her his entire life, which could easily be true. Martha hugged John tightly and whispered something in his ear, which Alex couldn't hear, and John nodded. She looked satisfied and then said: "Okay. I see shopping was successful, so now we can relax a bit," she glanced at Lafayette, who threw his hands up in the air in defense, "and after that we'll go home. John, sweetie?" John had walked over to the counter and had started picking out toppings for his yogurt, but now walked back to the small group. "Yes, Martha?" Martha smiled tenderly at John and put a hand on his shoulder. "You want a ride home? If you want, you can even sleep over. You'll have to ask your father first, of course." John looked grateful, but then furrowed his brow. "I'll take you up on the ride, but I can't stay over. My father won't be pleased if I do." Lafayette and Martha both nodded knowingly, and Alex wondered what he was talking about. Martha sighed. "Well, that's alright. You know you can stay over whenever you like. But now: yogurt."

Alex had a lot of fun picking out flavors and toppings for his ice cream. He and John both decided on caramel toppings with pineapple pieces, while Lafayette looked at them in disgust and just piled crumbled chocolate chip cookies on top of his. Alex kept throwing quick glances at John and found himself staring at the light and the way it hit John's lashes, or how his pants fit him perfectly, bringing out his slim legs, or how...

"No, I insist!" He looked at Martha, who was now standing at the counter with her credit card drawn. "John, honey, you know how I think about this. You don't pay for anything when you're with us." John opened his mouth to protest but Martha cut him off before he could even utter a word. "No. I won't have it. Now sit down, and enjoy your yogurt." She gave him a fake strict look, and John sighed in defeat and sat down at a table a little farther to the back of the store. Alex took place next to him. While they were eating their yogurt and chatting with Lafayette, he could feel John looking at him and felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

When they were finished, they hauled the bags filled with clothes to the car and loaded them in the trunk. They drove to John's house in about 10 minutes, and Alex couldn't help but stare at John's ass when he stepped out of the car -It was a good ass- and walked toward the massive building they had stopped in front of. The long driveway lay in the middle of a green garden, with high trees al little to the right and a small shed to the left. When John had reached the door, he turned around and waved at the car, and Alex couldn't help but smile and wave back. After they drove away, Lafayette turned to Alex. "Mon ami, you've got it bad. But don't stress, I think, non, I KNOW, he likes you, too." Alex beamed the rest of the drive home.

 _(A/N)_ _I hoped you liked it!_

 _Translations:_

 _Est-ce que tu as fait avec tes cheveux?: what have you done with your hair?_

 _je les ai natté: I braided it_

 _Je l'aime: I love it_

 _Mon ami: my friend_

 _Non: no_


End file.
